Dreams And Fantasies
by badly-knitted
Summary: Tosh has had this dream more often than she can remember. Written for Challenge 32: Fantasy at beattheblackdog.


**Title:** Dreams And Fantasies

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Tosh, Ianto.

 **Rating:** G

 **Spoilers:** Nada

 **Summary:** Tosh has had this dream more often than she can remember.

 **Word Count:** 768

 **Content Notes:** None necessary.

 **Written For:** Challenge 32: Fantasy at beattheblackdog.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

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 **Guest:** It'll be put somewhere safe, and I'm sure Ianto will soon find a sanctuary willing to take the owlet.

Thank you!

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OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

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This is a dream Tosh has had so many times. Even when she was little she used to dream of the day she'd get married, though the details have gone through countless changes. Back them, when she imagined her wedding day, she was always dressed in an elaborate kimono, but now she dreams of an elegant white dress, complete with veil.

The man beside her in her dreams has changed over the years too. As a child, she'd pictured someone like her father, distinguished and appropriately serious. In her teens her fancy turned to Darren Roberts, the most popular boy in her class, who sat at the desk in front of her and who never so much as noticed she existed.

At university, there was Eric, who she'd dated for six months. She'd tried in vain to imagine herself marrying him, but something had been missing and eventually they'd parted as friends. Then when she'd worked for the Department of Defence, she'd taken a shine to Mark Shelby, one of the men in her office. He'd been nice to her, always saying hello and chatting to her about work, but to her disappointment he'd never asked her on a date. Turned out he was already engaged to a blonde in the typing pool.

Lying in her lonely UNIT cell, she'd conjured up all her old memories and fantasies, replaying them over and over in her head. Sometimes she'd come back to reality with tears on her face, knowing that she'd never meet someone and marry now, never have a life and a love, or any kind of future outside of her fantasy world.

Then Jack had come, like a knight in shining armour, to rescue her from the dungeon and carry her away. Sometimes she wonders why she never dreamed of marrying him. He's certainly handsome enough to make any girl's heart skip a beat, and yet she's always thought of him as more of an older brother. Owen's another matter entirely.

What is it about Torchwood's medic? From the moment Jack introduced him to her, she'd felt drawn to him. He's not charming or sophisticated, he's not even good-looking, his mouth is too wide and he looks sort of goofy. He has appalling manners most of the time, he can be abrasive and insulting, loud-mouthed and inconsiderate, and yet she still fell head over heels for him, despite his habit of flaunting his one-night stands. Perhaps it was because she sensed that deep down he was just as damaged as she was, a kindred spirit.

Ever since that first meeting, it's been Owen in all her imaginings, Owen she's dreamed of someday marrying. Both sleeping and waking, she's gone over countless scenarios, conjuring to mind elaborate fantasies where he asks her out, courts her, proposes, and finally stands beside her in a church, or a registry office, or a marquee, as they become man and wife. Without doing anything to encourage her, Owen managed to turn her into a starry-eyed teenager with a crush. It's amazing she hasn't spent the last couple of years drawing hearts all over her paperwork with their names inside.

Now here she is, dreaming again of the perfect white wedding dress, picturing Owen in a smart suit with a rose in his buttonhole to match the ones in her bouquet. With her eyes closed, she can see in her mind's eye the perfect setting for the wedding, the understated floral displays, the bridesmaids in their mint-green dresses…

"Tosh? Tosh! Snap out of it, we're here!" Ianto's voice breaks into her thoughts. He sounds ridiculously nervous and she smiles to herself. Her friend always takes his responsibilities so seriously.

"Already?" she replies. "That was fast."

"You must've dozed off. I thought you were going to get an early night last night."

"You're the one who called me at one in the morning, panicking."

Ianto winced. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

Tosh just smiles and pats his knee. "Don't worry about it, and stop panicking."

"Easy for you to say. Aren't you nervous?"

She doesn't answer, just lets her best friend in the world help her from the car.

She's had this dream a hundred times or more, pictured dozens of variations on the theme, only this time it's not just a fantasy; the dress is real, cool and heavy against her legs, and the veil drawn over her face makes everything she looks at seem hazy and dreamlike. But despite all evidence to the contrary, she knows she's not dreaming; today is her wedding day, and she's finally marrying Owen Harper.

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The End


End file.
